


Even Spies Do Laundry

by orphan_account



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, Laundry room sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:39:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little outtake smut from "Just Because She's On A Mission, Doesn't Mean She Can't Have a Little Fun".  Peggy and Dottie fall into a little routine of late-night laundry together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Spies Do Laundry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [streepytime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/streepytime/gifts).



It was nearly midnight.  Decent people don’t normally do their laundry at this hour, Peggy thought ruefully as she hauled her bag of wash over her shoulder, trudging down to the Griffith laundry room.   _But then,_ she reflected _, I am not a decent person.  I’m a professional liar, and a grossly overworked one at that._  At least keeping her till past eleven was one bit of evidence that Dooley was ready to treat her like any one of the guys.

She stood mulling this over, bitterly, as she loaded her wash into the machine.  It was exhausting, this business of pretending to be a proper enough young lady to satisfy Miriam Fry (“The id and the ego?  Are they children’s characters?”), just so she would have a decent place to live.  However, life at the Griffith did seem to have a few benefits apart from the free food.

She heard soft footsteps behind her, and knew from their gait that it was Dottie.  Peggy smiled.  It was the first remotely pleasant possibility she’d been presented with today.  The pretty dancer had an uncanny sense of timing; she and Peggy seemed to find themselves down here together fairly often thanks to Dottie’s supposed insomnia, and it had given rise to late-night laundry sessions that often ended in sex on one of their beds, usually on a pile of unfolded wash.

“Hi Peg,” Dottie said, and her voice was trying for sweetness but there was a familiar steel underneath it.

Peggy didn’t looked up as she measured off the detergent.  “Insomnia again, darling?” she inquired casually, still smiling to herself.  A good, hard (if slightly odd) fuck on a pile of clothes sounded like precisely what she needed at the moment.

“Yeah, Peg, you know.  Can’t sleep, figured I’d get some wash done.”  Peggy felt her come close up behind her, sliding that strong, lean dancer’s body up against her back.  Dottie had gently pinned her against the side of the washing machine and was wasting no time nipping at the side of her neck.

Peggy bit her lip, closed the washer, and pressed herself back into Dottie’s body.  Now that she was close, she could smell a little vodka on her.  Probably hoping a drink would lull her off to sleep and finding no quarter there.  Peggy was more familiar with that experience than she’d like to be.

Dottie’s arms slipped around Peggy’s waist and braced against the washer.  “Have a long day again, Peg?”  Her voice was soft and fierce, and she leaned heavily against Peggy in that way that dared her to push back.

Peggy arched into her weight, sighed softly as Dottie’s mouth became more insistent, her teeth sinking lightly into the skin of Peggy’s neck.  "Mmm, yes, long day," she mumbled, uninterested in discussing it further.

One arm slipped around Peggy’s waist, the other moved up to her blouse, flicked the top button open, and slid inside, taking a firm hand to Peggy’s breast and tugging at her stiffening nipple through the thick fabric of her bra.  This was escalating more quickly than usual.  But then again, it was quite late, and they both had needs that could be filled with each other.

Peggy felt herself getting wet.  She whispered, “Shouldn’t we move this upstairs?”  But she found herself rocking her hips against Dottie, pinned between the washer and Dottie’s powerful frame, and was losing her will to take things anywhere else.

“Nobody ever comes down here at this hour,” Dottie whispered back.

Peggy felt the hand around her waist drop down to the hem of her skirt and push it up.  She felt Dottie’s hand sliding up the back of her leg, her fingers tracing along the seam of her stocking.  She was right, nobody ever came down here now, but it was still terribly risky.  But that was what made it exciting.  The possibility of getting caught.  And God, Dottie’s fingers, tugging at the elastic of her knickers, roughly squeezing her ass, Dottie’s weight, pinning her ever harder against the side of the washing machine… Peggy’s body felt electric.  

“Dottie,” she panted quietly, through thick breaths, “we could get caught.”

“I know,” Dottie answered, sounding as gleeful as Peggy secretly felt.  She hooked a finger into Peggy’s waistband and yanked her knickers down to mid-thigh, then leaned forward harder, pressing all her weight until Peggy was bent forward, supporting herself  on her elbows against the washer.  She still hadn't seen Dottie's face but she could see that look of intense focus in her mind's eye.

Peggy pushed back.  “We shouldn’t,” she whispered hoarsely, but it was only for show, now.  It was only so that Dottie would be more aggressive.

Dottie didn’t disappoint.  She sank her teeth into Peggy’s ear, slammed her body against Peggy’s, and slid a finger into her; it was too easy.  Peggy was slick and ready for her, so Dottie slid a second finger in, moving in and out.  Peggy couldn’t recall having been taken from behind like this before, but she liked it.  She liked the angle and all the spots that Dottie was hitting inside her.  

“What if someone comes down here?” Peggy whispered again, pretending to be trying to pull away so that Dottie would go at her harder.  Dottie rewarded her; her hand went from her breast to her hair, yanking her head back.  Dottie's teeth were biting her neck, harder than before, sucking at the tender skin.  It would leave a mark.  Peggy didn’t care.  

“That would be terrible,” Dottie sighed in her ear, “for someone to see you like this, with your skirt up and me treating you like the bad girl you are.”

Peggy felt a hot shiver when Dottie said this, felt herself quiver around Dottie’s fingers as they pumped away inside her, heard a little gasp escape her lips.

“But I don’t want anyone to know,” she moaned quietly.  She liked this game.  The more she feigned resistance, the harder Dottie would fuck her.  After the day she’d had, Peggy wagered she needed it pretty damned hard.

“Then maybe you’d better hurry up and come,” Dottie replied as she worked her.

“Maybe you’d better fuck me harder,” Peggy shot back, through her labored breaths.  She bucked her hips against Dottie’s fingers, challenging her to give her more.

Dottie planted her feet, pushing her harder against the washer, and in just the right way.  She reached out her free hand and flicked the washer on.  The machine spun to life and began to vibrate.  Peggy nearly collapsed. With the vibrating of the machine hitting the right spot, and Dottie’s fingers buried deep in the slippery warmth of her pussy, pushing roughly, Peggy found herself cursing under breath, as the hot pleasure grew moment by moment.  “Yes,” she moaned, and then bit her lip to keep back the string of moans and swears that were aching to come spilling from her mouth.

“What do you think of that?”  Dottie panted.

“Oh…I like it...” Peggy groaned, her head dropped forward and resting on the top of the washing machine.

Dottie was using all of her weight with each thrust now, and it took but a few moments of this deep, hard fucking to bring her over the edge.  Peggy had never imagined she would be so grateful to be holding onto the edges of a washing machine, but heaven certainly knew she wouldn’t have been able to stay on her feet any other way as the felt herself come hard, turning into liquid, into lava, lost in the quick, hot rush of being had this way.  She felt every speck of garbage and stress she was carrying from her day get burned away in its heat, every knot of angry tension get melted out of her body as she rocked and shook, Dottie holding her fingers deep inside her.  It was a breathtaking release.

She straightened up after a moment, still catching her breath, flushed and smiling, and turned around to face Dottie, only laying eyes on her now for the first time since she’d entered the room.  She pulled Dottie’s face down for a deep, long kiss.  Dottie smiled back, looking pleased with herself.

Peggy reached back and hiked herself up onto the thundering, vibrating washer.  “Well, that was rather spectacular,” she remarked, wrapping her legs around Dottie’s hips and pulling her in for another kiss.

“I was about to say the same,” Dottie replied.

“I believe,” Peggy mumbled through deep kisses, “it’s your turn.”  She hooked her arms around Dottie's waist and drew her closer, running her hands up and down Dottie's strong back, kissing her firmly, sliding her tongue over her lips with clear intention.  The hot kiss extended several moments more, Peggy's hands roaming Dottie's back, hips, stomach, ribs, carefully skirting near but not touching the parts of Dottie's body that she most wanted to put her hands on.

"Darling," Peggy whispered when they paused for a breath, "you're going to enjoy this a great deal."

"Peg," Dottie started to object, but Peggy kissed her to quiet her.

"Ssh, it's alright.  You're in control of this, darling." She slid her hands down Dottie's back, down the small of it, settling lightly on the curve of Dottie's tight, firm ass.  She paused and looked at Dottie's face.  "Is this alright?"

Dottie regarded her for a moment, and Peggy wondered if she'd ever stop looking surprised when Peggy was careful with her.  But she nodded, and Peggy dug her fingers into it, and pressed Dottie into the vibrating side of the washer.  She could immediately see on Dottie's face that she'd hit it the right way.  Her clear blue eyes closed, and her mouth went a little slack in surprise.

"Mmm, there it is," Peggy murmured gently, and then leaned in and whispered, "Put it just where you want it, darling.  Put it just where you need it.  I want to watch you come, darling, it's my favorite thing in the world."

Dottie stood for a few moments, angling herself different ways against the washer, figuring out what felt best.  Peggy gently drew her in and then released, and then again, trying to help guide her rhythm without overtaking her.  After a few moments, she seemed to have found what was working, and she buried her mouth in Peggy's, swallowing her sighs.  Peggy kept her hands firmly on Dottie's ass, helping without getting in the way, whispering between kisses, “Very good, darling, isn’t that lovely?  Take it how you like it, I’m right here to do whatever you want.”

She pulled back just a little to look at Dottie’s face, first to make sure that this was alright, that it fell within the bounds of what she felt good about, and then, when it was clear that it did, to simply enjoy locking eyes with her and enjoying the heat in her stare.  She slid one hand up Dottie’s back and into her golden curls, gently pulled her head back, murmuring, “I’m going to kiss you here,” against the tender skin of her throat.  Dottie moaned softly, leaning into Peggy’s lips.  Peggy parted her lips and run her tongue along the pulsing vein on Dottie’s neck, occasionally catching the tender skin between her teeth and listening to the little breaths getting caught in the back of her throat.  She could feel her hips moving with more purpose now and murmured, “That’s it, darling, take what you need.  Think about how you had me just now, you were the best.”

“I’m going to have you again,” Dottie whispered from someplace deep in her throat.

“I’m your girl, darling, you can have me as much as you want,” Peggy sighed against Dottie’s neck, “I’m yours.”  She wrapped her legs tighter around Dottie’s hips and felt Dottie grip her thighs, digging her fingers in hard.  

Dottie wasn’t the only one enjoying the vibrations of the washing machine, though.  Peggy found herself rocking on top of the washer, legs twined around Dottie, her pleasure escalating for a second time.  Damn, bloody washer had a secondary usage that may well have surpassed its primary usage.  

“Did like how I fucked you?” Dottie panted through ragged breaths.  She was surging, Peggy could feel the heat building between them.

“Yes,” Peggy whispered.  “You’re the best.  I’ve never had it like that…”  It didn't hurt that it was true, but she knew that Dottie also got off on hearing it.  Her breath was quickening right along with Dottie’s. “I might come again just thinking of it.”

Dottie moaned in response.  

Peggy wanted to slide her hand down between Dottie’s legs and finish her properly, but she knew she couldn’t.  The minute it became her pleasuring Dottie too directly, things quickly went someplace too dark and difficult for either of them to handle.  She kept whispering encouragement while nibbling at Dottie’s ear, teasing it with her tongue.  “That’s it, darling.  That’s it.  I’m going to come, too.  We’re going to do it together, you see?”

Dottie pushed her back a little.  Peggy could feel the tension building in Dottie’s body and knew it was coiling toward a beautiful release.  They made eye contact again, Dottie seeming to enjoy looking at Peggy’s face as they both drew closer to it.  “Peggy,” Dottie whispered, “I’m a nice girl.”

“The nicest,” Peggy whispered back.  “Come for me, darling.  Let me see it.”

Dottie gripped Peggy’s thighs so hard, Peggy was sure she’d have fingerprints there for days.  “Peg,” she sighed, staring into Peggy’s eyes.  And then they both reached their moment, within seconds; their eyes closed, foreheads touched, they fell against each other, borne on their own individual waves of orgasm that were coinciding.  

“Peg,” Dottie was sighing, “Peg, you’re my girl, you’re mine….”

“Dottie… Dottie, you’re the best, yes… yes... I want you to take me again… I’m yours, darling, you’re the best…”  

When their shaking subsided, Peggy had to slide off the washer and onto her feet.  She needed a break from the stimulation of sitting on the damned thing.   They looked at each other again.  Dottie was smiling strangely.   

“That’s never happened before,” she observed.

“Hmm?”  Peggy asked, still feeling foggy from her second orgasm.

“We’ve never finished together before,” Dottie elaborated.

Peggy smiled a tired, languid smile.  “You’re quite right,” she realized.  She hesitated to ascribe any significance to it, but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t pleasant to share that moment.

“It was… interesting.  I liked it,” Dottie decided, with a calm diffidence as if she were discussing a movie she’d just seen or a meal at the Automat.

Peggy would never stop being thrown at how quickly Dottie seemed to bounce back to “normal” after sex.  

The washer stopped spinning.  

“Time to move your load,” Dottie remarked, glancing over Peggy’s shoulder.

“I think you’ve already done that,” Peggy quipped.

Dottie smirked, leaned down and kissed her on the cheek in a way that was oddly tender.  “‘Night, Peg,” she said, almost fondly, and turned to leave.

As she walked away, Peggy noticed something.  “Dottie… where’s your laundry?”

“Silly me,” her voice drifted back as she walked away, “I must have left it upstairs.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
